


The Trouble with Fathers

by stingerpicnic (ibelieveinfiction)



Series: have i told you that I love you? a thousand times in a thousand ways (Snufmin Week 2019) [3]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Baby Stories and Other Embarrassing Tales, Dancing, Flustered Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Good Parent Joxaren | The Joxter, Humor, Joxter Is Dramatic, M/M, Moomin is having a lot of fun, Snufkin is Dramatic, Snusmumriken | Snufkin Has Paws and a Tail, also au where Moominpappa doesn't recognize Snufkin as Joxter's son, au where Snufkin grew up with Joxter and Mymble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-04-24 08:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19169713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinfiction/pseuds/stingerpicnic
Summary: Snufkin loves his father, he really does. He enjoys seeing him. In the winter. Away from people he can embarrass him in front of.He doesn't enjoy seeing him in Moominvalley quite as much.





	The Trouble with Fathers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittyorange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyorange/gifts).



> Another fic based off a conversation between me and [@candycorncartooncat](https://candycorncartooncat.tumblr.com/) (tumblr)/[@kittyorange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyorange/pseuds/kittyorange) (ao3)! Really y'all, they're great and I adore talking with them.
> 
> Written for Snufmin Week 2019. Day Three: Dancing/Singing

 

"Joxter? What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too, Moomin," Joxter says, allowing amusement to leak into his tone. Really, his old friend should know better then to ask such questions. He goes where he wants, _when_ he wants.

Some days ago Joxter had gotten the urge to visit his old friend in Moominvalley. It had been far too long since they'd seen each other, almost two decades now if he's counting correctly. And he would get to see his own son again before winter, too, so it seemed like an especially good urge to follow.

So he packed up his traveling supplies, told his dear Mymble that he would be back in a month or so, and hugged all the children goodbye before setting off in the direction of the valley.

"Yes, yes hello, it's good to see you," he says, "but what are you doing here? I haven't seen you in so long."

"Exactly. We haven't seen each other in too long and I wanted to correct that. So now I'm here," he says.

"Yes. Here. Under my writing desk."

"It's a wonderful place to nap, wouldn't you agree?"

Moomin sighs. "I suppose it's not worth bothering to ask you how you got in here without anyone noticing."

"It isn't," he says brightly, uncurling from his position and carefully standing up. He stretches, it really _was_ a nice place to nap, if a little cramped.

"Aren't you going to invite me to tea?" Joxter says, grinning at his friend. He knows he really is glad to see him under his dramatics.

"Oh! Yes, of course. I'll get Moominmamma to make some," he says.

"Moomin _mamma?_ Not Moominmaiden? Moomin you didn't tell me you had a son," he says with exaggerated offense, pretending like he doesn't already know _all_ _about_ Moomintroll from talking with his own son. It's more fun this way.

"I haven't _seen_ you in nearly two decades! And it's not like I had an address to send letters to!" Moomin says, already walking out the door. Joxter follows him, chuckling.

"Still!" he says, enjoying the opportunity to antagonize his old friend, "That's the sort of thing your friends should know!"

"It's the sort of thing friends I can send letters to _do_ know," he snips back. "You can meet him when he and Snufkin get back from whatever today's adventure is."

"You're letting him go on adventures? Don't you remember the sort of things that can happen on adventures?" he says, ignoring the mention of his own son. He had suspected that Moomintroll was probably out with Snufkin and he wouldn't be getting to meet him just yet. Snufkin's campsite had been empty when he passed it on his way to Moominhouse and he knows how his son prefers to spend his time here in Moominvalley.

"Oh would you just sit down," he says, gesturing to the table now that they've gotten down the stairs. "I'm sure they're fine. They're both very capable."

Then he turns toward the kitchen. "Dear, we have company! Joxter has decided to visit," Moomin calls.

Moominmamma appears in the doorway. "That's splendid, dear. Would you like some tea, Joxter?"

"Yes, that would be nice. Thank you Moominmamma," he says, sitting down at the table. He's always been polite to Moominmamma, she was a force to be reckoned with even when she was still Moominmaiden.

It's not long before he and Moominpappa are sat around the table with cups of tea, Moominmamma having left them to catch up alone while she begins preparations for dinner.

"Look at you, all settled down in this cozy little house," Joxter says, leaning back in his chair, "I suppose I'm not any better myself. I have a son now too, you know."

 _"You_ have a son?"

"I _know_ , it's shocking. But I've actually found I don't mind fatherhood too much. I might even go as far as to say I like it."

"I never thought I would see the day you would settle down."

"Neither did I," he says, "but then I fell in love with my dear Mymble and I had a son of my own and I found that the urge to wander wasn't as present as it used to be."

"Ah, fatherhood will do that to you," Moomin commiserates, "I don't go on nearly as many adventures as I used to either."

"I still wander sometimes, though not as often and not for as long. I don't regret the change," Joxter says, thinking of all the moments he's had with his family that he wouldn't trade for the world. He definitely doesn't regret choosing to wander less. "Though there is one thing I wish I could change."

"And what would that be?" Moomin asks.

Joxter sighs. "I love my son, I really do, but I just wish he wasn't so _dramatic."_

"Now that just sounds like you're getting what you deserve. You were always pretty dramatic yourself," Moomin says.

The worst part is that he's _right._ He always _has_ been dramatic and Snufkin is _exactly_ like him. He wishes he had paid more attention to the old adage that said his kids would be just like him, but then he never really expected to have any children.

"Well it would be great if people would at least _believe_ me when I tell them he's the most dramatic kid I've _ever_ met instead of falling for the quiet kid act he feeds them all," he says.

Moomin laughs at him. "Surely he can't be that bad."

Ah, so Moomin has fallen for the act as well. Really it's unbelievable how Snufkin can fool so many people just by spending most of his time sitting quietly. Why can't anyone else see that his rational and composed front is just that, a front?

Joxter supposes he'll just have to try and convince him of the truth, though it's never worked before.

"But he is! One time when he was small he didn't like that I made him take a bath after rolling around in the mud all day," Joxter says, remembering the day with fond exasperation, "so I told him that he should keep himself clean if he didn't want to bathe so often. In fact,  _I_ wanted him to keep himself clean so I wouldn't have to wrangle him into a bath so often. And do you know what he did, Moomin? Do you know what he _did?"_

"Keep himself clean?" Moomin guesses, grinning

"Yes!" Joxter says loudly, dramatically. "He kept himself _very_ clean. But it's the _way_ he did it that was the problem! He still wanted to go outside with me but he was _insistent_ that he not get dirty so he made me _carry_ him. Everywhere! All the time! And if I said no he started tearing up and his lip would get all wobbly and he would say," here he pitches his voice higher to mimic a child's, adding a bit of wobble in there for good measure, ""But-but Papa didn't you say you wanted me to stay clean? Were you lying to me, Papa?" and I caved _every time._ And this went on for a _week,_ Moomin. He played me and he did it well, even at such a young age."

Moomin is full on laughing now. He supposed that's something to be proud of even if the story doesn't convince him of Snufkin's dramatic nature.

"And still no one believes me that he's actually _incredibly_ dramatic!" he continues. "Everyone, even his mother, thinks that he's quiet and reserved all the time and while, yes, he is those things, he's _also_ very dramatic when he gets the chance. You'd think that means he only shows that side of himself when I'm there, but he doesn't! He does plenty of dramatic things in front of other people! And still, _still_ no one believes me," he says, laughing a bit himself now.

And then Moomin says something he really doesn't expect.

"Ha! You really must meet Snufkin when the boys come back then. That boy is so dramatic I bet he could give your son a run for his money," Moominpappa says when his laughter dies down a bit.

For a moment Joxter is surprised. Had Moomin really not figured out that Snufkin _was_ his son? He was been _certain_ he would know. Absolutely sure of it. Snufkin was so _like_ him. He acted like him, even _looked_ almost exactly like him, though his features had been softened a bit by his mother. That fact that Snufkin is his son should be _obvious_ to anyone who knew them both.

But then the surprise melts away and Joxter suddenly decides that he's feeling a bit mischievous. It would really be an awful shame to waste the absolutely _wonderful_ opportunity Moomin has just gifted him with.

Snufkin didn't get his dramatics from _nowhere,_ after all.

"I would love to meet him," he says, a grin curling at the edges of his mouth.

* * *

Walking paw in paw with Moomintroll back to Moominhouse, Snufkin is suddenly struck with a bad feeling that settles in his gut like a stone.

He gets feelings like this, sometimes. Joxter called them Forebodings and told him to always listen to them. And he did, generally. He didn't get them as often as his father and he didn't think his were quite as accurate, but it was still a good idea to listen.

Though sometimes the bad thing that was going to happen to him wasn't, say, being caught by the police and having to spend a week in a cell and was more along the lines of a snapped fishing line. He always feels a little silly when he gets anxious about the Forebodings and they turn out to be almost nothing.

But better safe than sorry, he supposed. So he usually listens to them.

Usually.

This time, though, he's almost entirely positive that it's nothing. The sky is clear, his belly is full from the picnic lunch Moominmamma had so kindly prepared for them to share on today's adventure, he's wonderfully tired from the adventure itself, and he's holding paws with his boyfriend. Everything is perfect and there's very little of consequence he can imagine going wrong.

And then he sees his father in the distance.

 _Oh no,_ he thinks, a special brand of terror shooting up his spine. It's the kind of terror reserved for when someone _knows_ their parents are about to embarrass them in front of people they care about seeming cool in front of. People like their boyfriend, who currently doesn't know about any of the ridiculous, _embarrassing_ things they did as a child.

It's bad enough that Little My knows about any of those things. He'd had to beg and bribe her not to talk about them in earshot of anyone else.

Snufkin doesn't know what to do. Joxter _can't_ be here. He knows too much about him and is not even a _little_ afraid of embarrassing him in front of everyone. His reputation won't be able to take it.

"Oh, Snufkin! It looks like we have a guest! Let's go say hi," Moomintroll says beside him. The plan to drag Moomintroll into the forest and not come back out until his father left that has half formed in his mind evaporates instantly. He'll never be able to convince Moomintroll not to greet a guest once he's seen them without some _very_ good reasons for doing so. Especially now that he can see Moominpappa waving them over, obviously having noticed them as well. And, unfortunately, the imminent death of his reputation doesn't count as a good reason.

"I think I'd rather not," he says anyway, slowing down. He'll feel better if he at least tries to stop this from happening.

"Oh, do you need some time alone? That's alright, I'm sure you can meet them later. I'll go distract them so you can disappear for a while," he says, squeezing his paw and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before running off to do just that before Snufkin has a chance to convince him to stay.

That's very kind of him, Snufkin thinks, and he'd really be very glad for the offer at _any_ other time.

But now he's left staring after Moomintroll wondering if it would be better for him to start sprinting into the forest to avoid this whole thing for as long as possible or to run after him and endure the embarrassment for the chance to try and mitigate the damage.

Moomintroll reaches them and looks back at him confused after a moment of talking, obviously wondering why he's still just standing there staring at them, but dutifully starts leading them back in the direction of Moominhouse. Joxter spends a long moment staring back at Snufkin before turning to follow.

Snufkin allows himself to hope, just for a moment, that Joxter will have mercy on him and _not_ embarrass him in front of his boyfriend, at least not while he's not there to defend himself.

But then he takes in the line of Joxter's shoulders, the curl of his tail, and the bounce of his walk as they go, and starts running in their direction. He knows his father better than he knows anyone else and he knows that he's absolutely not going to show him _any_ mercy.

He gets there just in time to hear the tail end of what Joxter was saying.

"--just telling him some stories about my son when he was small. Like this one time he--" but Joxter doesn't get to finish, cut off by his own loud laughter as Snufkin grabs his arm and starts yanking him toward the forest and _away_ from people his father can embarrass him in front of.

Joxter follows after him willingly, which is probably the only reason he's making any significant progress.

"I'm sorry, but we have to go," Snufkin shouts over his shoulder at the surprised Moomins.

And then he hears Joxter's laughter die down to a snicker and sees a wide, toothy grin stretch across his face and Snufkin knows he's said the wrong thing.

"Hello "sorry, but we have to go," I'm Papa!" Joxter almost-shouts brightly, finally digging his heels in. Snufkin stops pulling, defeated.

Everything is silent for a terrible moment, which Snufkin takes to try to come to terms with the loss of his reputation.

"Papa," he says quietly, voice pained in his grief, letting his arm go so he can use both his paws to cover his face, "no."

Then two voices shout almost simultaneously as Moominpappa and Moomintroll get over their shock.

 _"Snufkin_ is your son?"

"He's your _dad?"_

* * *

Sitting in a flower field far away from Moominhouse with Snufkin and Joxter, Moomin is having a _great_ time.

He's getting to meet Snufkin's dad! He's finally getting to learn about Snufkin before he met him! Joxter has so many stories about little Snufkin and they're all so adorable!

Of course, he already knew Snufkin was adorable. He's _still_ adorable, in Moomin's opinion. But it's still nice to hear the stories.

He almost feels bad about having such a good time when Snufkin is so clearly embarrassed by everything that's Joxter's saying. He's been hiding his face in Moomin's shoulder and clutching at his paw and intermittently groaning as they swap stories about him for the last hour or two. It's almost enough to make him feel guilty.

Almost.

But then he remembers all the times that Snufkin has sat in Moominhouse with _his_ parents and listened intently to _his_ baby stories and looked at _his_ baby pictures. And he remembers how he sat there himself, groaning in embarrassment. And he remembers how Snufkin did absolutely _nothing_ to discourage his parents from going on and on about him and, instead, actively _encouraged_ them.

He decides he doesn't feel all that bad about any of this, actually. Turnabout is fair play, after all.

His decision is absolutely not affected by the fact that an embarrassed Snufkin is a rather cute Snufkin too. It's not. And if anyone says otherwise then they obviously don't know what they're talking about.

"Oh, oh! You know one time Snufkin and I were sitting together on the bridge," Moomin says, ignoring Snufkin's groaning and the increased pressure on his shoulder as he tries to burrow his face in further, "and I turned to him and told him about how much I loved him. He got really red and after I finished he just stood up and jumped into the river! And then he tried to play it off by saying he wanted to get a fish's perspective!"

"I'm almost surprised he willing jumped into water. Oh! Remember how I told you he hated baths as a kid?" Joxter says.

"Yeah."

"Well for a while he actually decided to try and get revenge on me for making him take baths. I can't tell you exactly how many mud puddles he tripped me into, but it was a lot. And every time he would stand there and say "Papa. Papa, you're all muddy now. You need a bath, Papa." _Every_ time."

Moomin can't help but laugh at that. He can _see_ it happening in his mind. Little Snufkin standing over his father face down in the mud. It's an adorable image.

"Did you know," Moomin says like he's sharing some great secret, forcing his laughter down, "that he introduced himself as Snoofkin the first time we met?"

"He _didn't_ ," Joxter says.

"He _did!_ And then he didn't correct himself, or us when we started using it, for _days_."

"Well, he always had problems pronouncing things," Joxter says. "He used to call butterflies "bubbleflies" and when I was teaching him how to dance he always said "watts" instead of waltz."

"Wait, Snufkin knows how to dance?" Moomin says excitedly. Then, turning his head to look at Snufkin, "You know how to dance?"

Snufkin mumbles something he can't make out against his shoulder.

"What was that?" Moomin says, gently urging Snufkin to lift his head. "Snufkin. Snufkin, can you dance?"

"Yes, I know how to dance," Snufkin says, reluctantly leaving the safe haven of his fur.

"We should dance! Right now! Oh, please, Snufkin. It'll be fun," he says.

"Do you even know how to waltz, Moomintroll?"

"Of course I know how to waltz! I wouldn't be a proper Moomin if I didn't. Pappa taught me how when I was little."

"But there's not even any music," he says a little desperately, like it's the only defense he has.

"I can fix that," Joxter cuts in, already taking the two halves of his flute out of his pocket. Snufkin looks at him with murder in his eyes, but his face softens into something loving as he turns back to Moomin.

Moomin can see the _exact_ moment Snufkin caves. Giddy excitement runs its way up Moomin's spine.

Snufkin sighs and stands, holding his paw out to Moomin. He does a small bow, bending a little at the waist.

"May I have this dance, Moomintroll?"

Moomin feels his face heat up a bit at the display, but eagerly grabs his offered hand and pulls himself up.

"Of course you may," he says to go along with him. It's worth it for the way Snufkin's small smile stretches just a bit wider.

Snufkin guides his other paw to his shoulder and places his own at Moomin's waist. They're pressed close, close enough to brush against each other with the rise and fall of their chests as they breathe. Moomin thinks he could spend an eternity in this moment, just staring into Snufkin's eyes and counting the freckles that draw constellations across his face. He might have to look a little harder than he would normally, they stand out less against his pink blush than they do against his normal color, but Moomin doesn't think he minds the idea.

Then Joxter starts playing and they start dancing.

They're a little clumsy at first. Pappa _did_  teach Moomin how to waltz, but it was a long time ago and he rarely has cause to waltz, so he's a bit out of practice. But they both giggle over their mistakes and stumbles, so he doesn't feel too bad about being a little rusty.

Eventually, they find their rhythm and Moomin has to wonder why he hasn't been dancing with Snufkin every day of his life. He knows he won't be able to resist trying to convince Snufkin to agree to a dance at every available opportunity now. Not when he knows what it's like.

It's a magical experience. The world around them melts away, music fading into the background. It's like the only things in the whole world are him and Snufkin, gazing into each other's eyes and smiling while they dance together.

Moomin feels his love for Snufkin fill his chest, mixing seamlessly with his joy. It's an incredible feeling, bright and warm and enchanting. Moomin doesn't ever want it to end.

Somehow, he thinks that Snufkin might feel the same. He _does,_ if the soft love that settles in around his eyes and the corner of his mouth is anything to judge by.

And Moomin _knows_ that it's love that settles there, because it's the same sort of look he's seen Snufkin give him a thousand times before. It used to be a secret, what it meant. But nowadays it's almost invariably followed by a soft touch and a quiet "I love you" that always seems to sigh it's way out of him, pulled from his lips as if he can't keep it back and doesn't _want_ to.

They keep dancing even after Joxter stops playing his flute, oblivious to the outside world.

Later, Joxter will tease _both_ of them about it and Moomin will know the feeling of Joxter telling embarrassing stories about _him._

He won't stop asking for stories about Snufkin, though.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments will be answered at the end of the week!! Participating in this event is keeping me very busy.
> 
> In the meantime, feel free to come scream at me about these dorks over on my [tumblr @stingerpicnic](https://stingerpicnic.tumblr.com/)! I promise I'm friendly.


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